


bound to fall

by scribbleddreaming



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Gen, just edited a little bit, written on tumblr sometime last year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribbleddreaming/pseuds/scribbleddreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slowly, Alfred had been corrupted into darkness, and he had not fought, not really. He had focused so ardently on his misguided attempt to save someone who did not want to be saved that he could not save himself in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bound to fall

_Alfred’s soul already belongs to me_

This, of all the insane and impossible things Alfred had seen and heard over the last few days, had been the most terrifying. That single sentence had made a shiver run down his spine and he had felt the cold sweat coating his skin. He had clung to the Professor as to a life rope, as if caught in a stormy dark sea with the sea water filling his lungs. He was drowning, and he didn’t want to admit the awful truth hidden in that simple little sentence.

Ever since they had arrived in Transylvania, ever since he had met Sarah and she had run away and her father had been killed and then the red-haired maid, he had been straying off the path he had chosen; the path of truth and logic. That path had been clear - he did not question the Professor or his methods, nor did he question anything the Professor had said about the way life had to be lead and anything he had told Alfred about vampires. The Professor had taught him everything, and Alfred was his studious disciple, aping the man's ways. Logic forbid confusion.

But now, he was caught in a maelstrom of confusing emotions - he had experienced deep love, and consuming lust, and overwhelming fear, but most of all… he had experienced devastating, soul-crushing doubt. Alfred no longer knew what to believe in. Truth and logic had nothing to do with their fool’s errand, for the Professor and Alfred were hopelessly outmatched by the ancient vampires swarming around them, surrounding them, if not in body, then in spirit.

Alfred remembered the night before so vividly; the elation he had felt when the Count had spun his words around Alfred like a net, entrapping and ensnaring him as a fly by a spider. The worst thing had been that he had wanted; truly and honestly wanted. It was wrong and forbidden, something to be hidden away, but it was there. He had felt the Count invade his mind, infiltrate his senses, fill his mind with pleasing thoughts and emotions, felt something unknown and strange surging through his veins and clouding his judgment. Alfred had lost his way then already. 

And then that nightmare he had had. Full of commotion and the blood, so red, gushing everywhere and filling his mouth and nostrils, turning him into a ravenous animal so unlike himself. He had seen the Count’s son, Herbert, smirk at him from the corner of his eye and he had looked at that black vampire, who had to have been the Count, blood smeared on his face and he saw a terrifying familiarity in those eyes, almost as if he could see himself in them.

_Alfred’s soul already belongs to me_

Alfred had been lost from the moment he had set foot in the castle. Truth and logic, all the principles the Professor had preached about would not change what has already come to pass. Slowly, Alfred had been corrupted into darkness, and he had not fought, not really. He had focused so ardently on his misguided attempt to save someone who did not want to be saved that he could not save himself in the process. A part of him wonders if maybe he had been destined for this fate.

While he was bleeding out on the cold and wet forest ground, the prattling of the Professor so distant and dull, the stench of iron permeating the air, he knew what it had all meant. He wanted to laugh about his own obliviousness, his own profound stupidity and naivëté, yet the thumping of his veins in his throat kept him from making another sound that wasn’t a sore whimper. He knew he was about to become the beast he had feared so much in the past, yet a strange sense of calm spread over him as Alfred looked up at the bright moon that blinded him.

He hoped that the Professor would make it out alive; He deserved to live and prove he was not insane, especially after all the trouble Alfred had caused him. He hoped someone would find him, maybe the Count, maybe even Herbert, someone who could help him become more than an animal, almost passing as a civilized being as they do. Alfred wondered though; if he has lost his soul already, how is it that he can feel his humanity waning, slowly, running out like the sand in a clock?


End file.
